


Ordinary Expectations

by sophiesfairygodroach (multifandomfictionwriter4)



Category: Coraline (2009), The School for Good and Evil - Soman Chainani
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Hort as Wybie Lovat, Sophie as Coraline Jones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:42:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24465145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multifandomfictionwriter4/pseuds/sophiesfairygodroach
Summary: Sophie Woods (Coraline Jones) meets Hort Scourie (Wybie Lovat). Needless to say, Sophie is not impressed, and he is promptly nicknamed “Horticulture”.Posted on Instagram @sophiesfairygodroach for @agathas.spaghetti ‘s 400 followers contest. Idea for this fic and its art was created by @caramel_artz on Instagram (please see the notes for the link).
Relationships: Hort & Sophie (The School for Good and Evil)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Ordinary Expectations

**Author's Note:**

> [Link to art posted on Instagram by @caramel_artz](https://www.instagram.com/p/CA0l152p-iB/?utm_source=ig_embed&utm_campaign=loading)

Sophie knew she had to find the well. Hurrying down the slope, she stopped to catch her breath in a strange circle of mushrooms in front of a stump.

Something rustled in the tall grass that surrounded her, and she gasped, swivelling to see what it was.

A raspy meow came from behind her. She shrieked, spinning back around and raising her dowsing rod as a weapon.

It was just a skinny little cat, but strangely, it didn't have any hair. She lowered the stick, took a deep breath, and told it, “You scared me to death, you mangy thing!”

She continued, “I’m just looking for an old well. Know it?”

The cat nodded and blinked, but didn’t do anything else.

“Not talking, hm?” She closed her eyes and held out her dowsing rod.

“Magic dowser, magic dowser, show me the well!”

There was a loud roar and Sophie’s eyes opened.

A man-wolf was standing at the top of the slope. It raised its claws threateningly and Sophie gasped as the beast jumped down and landed in front of her.

Sophie stayed where she was and yelled threateningly, raising the forked stick over her head. As it prowled toward her, she shouted, “Get away from me!”

Its claws curled around the stick and she was thrown to the ground in a puddle, her yellow coat mangled and her navy blue skirt muddied.

The man-wolf climbed atop the stump and tilted its head to the side. Then it jumped back behind the stump and emerged… as a weaselly, black-haired boy in gloves, a grey shirt, and dark jeans.

“Let me guess. You’re from Pasha Dunes, or maybe Foxwood, someplace dried out and barren, right? I heard about water-witching before but it doesn't make sense; I mean, it's just an ordinary branch.”

Sophie was taken aback. “It’s a dowsing rod!” she announced, snatching the stick from his gloved hands and smacking him with it.

“Ow!”

She continued, “And I don’t like being stalked. Not by psycho shifters or their…cats!”

He shrugged. “Well, he’s not my cat. He’s kinda feral. You know, wild?” He made a clawed gesture with his gangly arms. “O-of course I do feed him every night, and sometimes he’ll come in my window and bring me little dead things.”

Sophie sighed to the heavens, then coughed as the musty air filled her lungs. “Look, I’m from Gavaldon.”

“Huh?” he said.

“It’s in the Woods. And if I’m a ‘water witch’, then where’s the secret well?” She stomped her foot impatiently.

He gestured to her feet. “Y-you stomp too hard, you’ll fall in it!”

Sophie’s eyes widened, and she jumped back, letting out a little yelp. He shifted some dirt off the spot where she’d been standing and knocked on it, making a wooden echo. He grabbed a metal handle and opened the door a bit.

“It’s supposed to be so deep that if you fell to the bottom and looked up, you’d see a sky full of stars in the middle of the day.”

Sophie said, “Huh.”

The boy let go of the handle and stood up. The door closed with a thump. “S-surprised they let you in.” He gestures toward Coraline’s house, visible from the hill they were standing on. “My grandma, she owns the Pink Palace. She doesn’t usually rent to people with kids.”

“Hmph. What do you mean ‘usually’?”

He wrung his gloved hands. “W-well, I’m not supposed to talk about it.” Changing the subject, he said, “I’m Hort. Hort Scourie.” Hort then held out his hand for Sophie, presumably expecting her to take it. She gingerly took it, and he shook her hand aggressively.

“Hort?” asked Sophie.

“Yeah, I know,” he said, walking back towards the stump, where his cat was sitting.

Sophie wrinkled her nose, first at the name, and then at the dirt he had left on her hand. She wiped it on her coat, not bothering to be discreet.

“Not my i-idea, of course,” he continued, “w-what’d you get saddled with?”

Sophie crossed her arms. “I wasn’t saddled with anything. It’s Sophie.”

“Sophia what?”

“Sophie. Sophie Woods,” she corrected him indignantly.

Hort wandered after his cat, commenting, “It’s not real… scientific, but I heard an ordinary name like Sophia can lead people to have ordinary expectations about a person.”

Sophie huffed out a breath. “I’m anything but ordinary, you’ll see.”

There was suddenly a loud voice echoing from over the hill. “Hort!”

“I think I heard someone calling you, Horticulture,” she announced.

“W-what? I-I didn’t hear anything,” he said, standing back up tensely.

Nodding, Sophie said, “Oh, I definitely heard someone.”

The voice called again, unmistakably female. “Hort!”

Hort whispered, “Grandma!” and turned around, laughing awkwardly. “Well, great to meet a water witch from Gavaldon.”

Sophie glared at him, threateningly hitting her stick on her open palm.

“But I-I’d wear gloves next time,” he added.

“Why?” asked Sophie cautiously.

“Because that dowsing rod of yours? It’s poison oak.” And with that, Hort headed down the other side of the hill without so much as a backward glance.

Sophie yelped and, quickly dropping the stick, once again wiped her hands on her coat. The cat trotted after Hort, and she stuck her tongue out at it.

She looked down at the well. Noticing a small knothole, she stooped down, grabbing a pebble from the ground and dropping it through. Sophie pressed her ear to the knothole, reaching a count of nine before she heard the pebble hit the water.

Raindrops started to fall, and Sophie followed Hort’s footsteps back to the Pink Palace.


End file.
